


Triple Tussle

by the_random_writer



Series: Triples [5]
Category: Bourne (Movies), Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux, RED (Movies), The Bourne Supremacy (2004)
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Arguing, Bad Puns, Central Intelligence Agency, Crack Crossover, Crossover, Gen, Insults, Pick-Up Lines, Snark, Star Wars References, Texting, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 07:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15335058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_random_writer/pseuds/the_random_writer
Summary: Owen asks the Sidewinder and Cooper-Orlov boys for some unusual assistance.A crossover fic that combines Cut & Run with mySeparated Twinsseries, featuring William Cooper from 'RED' and Kirill from 'The Bourne Supremacy'.Will only make sense if you have seen both movies, and know about a certain facecast for Ty Grady.





	Triple Tussle

A text message notification binged.

On both of their phones, at the same time, using the same, 'high priority' sound.

At half past ten on a Wednesday night, that would likely mean one of two things. Either a Company team was calling them in, or one of the other Sidewinder boys had done something stupid and needed their help.

Without looking up from his book, Ty said, "Ten bucks says it's Nick, looking for someone to post his bail."

"He'd call Kelly," Zane replied, briefly shaking his head. "My money's on Digger. Bet he's blown up his septic tank system again."

Ty wrinkled his nose, no doubt recalling the fragrant events of their last visit to the Garrigou place. "Could be Deuce or Annie, or one of our folks."

"Except none of them are text message people. If it was something urgent, they'd all call us instead."

"Better not be a Company thing," Ty muttered. He laid his book on the bedside table, threw back the covers and swung his bare feet onto the floor. "We're only supposed to be daytime support. They're not paying us enough to deal with any out of hours shit." He grabbed their phones from the top of the dresser, kept his own and threw Zane's onto the bed.

Zane put his magazine down and scooped up his phone to check out the text.

Ty beat him to the punch. "Mine's from Owen. Says something's come up, and he needs our help."

"Came to me, too," Zane confirmed. He scanned the list of names on the message, curious to see who else had received the late-night request. Himself, Ty, Nick, Digger and Kelly, and to his surprise, William Cooper and Kirill Orlov as well. His phone emitted a different beep, warning him his battery was about to expire. He switched it off and set it aside—Ty could relay any message details and updates to him. "What kind of help?" he asked.

Ty puffed out a heavy sigh. "Jesus, Ozone, _really_?" he griped. "Since when the hell is coming up with good pick-up lines a high priority problem?"

"Pick up lines?" Zane repeated. "He's engaged to be married, to one of the most amazing women we've ever met. Who the hell's he trying to pick up?"

"He says one of the guys on the Help Desk team at his work's running a contest to find the best pick-up line."

"That doesn't seem like a very work appropriate thing."

Ty shrugged and climbed back into the bed, pulling the covers up to his chest. "Could be worse. Least they're not running a limbo contest in the parkade."

"You speaking from experience there?"

"Maybe."

"And?"

"And, what?"

"Who won the contest?" Zane asked. Surely not Ty—as lean and agile as he was, he didn't have the hips or the knees.

"I shouldn't say. It's not really my story to share."

"Grady, either you tell me what the fuck happened, or I call Red at work tomorrow and wheedle it out of her instead."

"What makes you think it was an FBI thing?"

"Where else have you worked that has a parkade?"

Ty glared, then sighed, admitting Zane's deduction was right. "I won't give you the full account, but let's just say Fred Perrimore's _way_ more flexible than he looks."

"Really?"

"Pretty sure he's double-jointed. He shimmied under a knee-high bar like he was just sitting down."

Given Fred's impressive bulk, that must have been a _hell_ of a sight.

"Are we gonna help him?" Zane asked.

"Who, Fred?"

"No, dummy. _Owen_."

"I might, but you probably shouldn't."

"Why the hell not?"

"Cus in case you hadn't noticed, Lone Star, most of your pick up lines are so bad, even a frat-boy wouldn't use them."

Zane huffed. "They worked well enough on you."

"Wasn't your pick-up lines that got me."

"Then why the fuck are you even complaining?"

"I'm not complaining," Ty explained. "I'm just _observing_."

"Observing, sure."

"Seriously, though. We both know that if Ozone uses one of your shitty suggestions, he's more likely to end up terminated with cause than winning a stupid competition."

"That reminds me, what's the prize?"

Ty peered at his phone again. "A fifty dollar gift card to P.F. Chang's."

"Wow. They're really pushing the boat out, there."

"Guess it's more of a kudos thing."

"You got any good answers for him?"

Ty shook his head. "Nothing's coming to mind right now." He smiled and laid a hand on Zane's thigh. "Been a few years since I had to use one."

Zane grabbed the hand to give it a kiss. "Don't worry, doll. Sure the rest of the Sidewinder guys'll come up with a winner."

As if on cue, Ty's iPhone binged.

Ty scrolled to read the new text. "Nick's got an answer already."

"What's he suggesting?" Zane asked. He held up a refusing hand. "And please tell me it's not the 'Do you have any Irish in you? No? Would you like some?' line. Even I'm not dumb enough to use that."

Ty's slightly plaintive groan told Zane what he needed to know. "Jesus, Irish, how the fuck do you _ever_ get laid?" the ex-marine muttered.

"He used it, didn't he?"

"He didn't, no. Another line, but almost as bad."

"What is it?"

"I'm not actually this tall, I'm just sitting on my wallet."

Zane grunted in disgust, seconding his husband's complaint. "That's about as subtle as a punch in the dick."

"Would work on a couple of women I know. Hell, would work on a couple of _men_ I know." Ty snickered. "I'd say you could use it, except you actually _are_ this tall."

Another bing.

"Uh oh, here's Kelly," Ty warned. "Prepare to show classy and subtle the door." He sniggled as he read the message.

"Go on, then. Lay it on me."

"Kelly's contribution is, 'Check your six, I'm coming in!'"

Zane rolled his eyes. Cheesy humour was bad enough—cheesy military humour was more than any civilian husband should be expected to bear…

Bing.

More sniggling from his spouse. "Nick just came back with 'Can I whiskey tango all over your foxtrot?'"

Bing.

"Here's Digger, now. He's adding 'Would you mind if I ambushed your bunker?'"

It _could_ be worse. At least Digger's line was polite…

Ty put his thumbs to work.

"Tell me you're not joining in?" Zane demanded. He knew some of his own lines were bad, but when it came down to it, most of Ty's weren't much better.

"Course I fucking am."

"You told me nothing was coming to mind."

"Guess I found some inspiration."

"What line are you adding?"

"I'm sticking with the Marine Corps theme, going with 'Stand on the yellow footprints and prepare for receiving!'"

"Have you ever used that?"

"Once or twice, back when we were all living in the Jacksonville house. Was a Marine Corps town, so most of the local women knew what the footprints reference meant."

Zane made a mental note to Google 'yellow footprints' in the morning. "Did it work?"

Ty winked and flashed him a shit-eating grin. "You bet your Texan ass it did."

"The women of Jacksonville obviously have very low standards."

"Not as low as the men of Miami."

"Touché."

Ty turned his attention back to his phone. He puckered his lips and drummed his fingers on the bed.

"Writer's block?" Zane interjected.

"A little bit, yeah."

"If it helps, I know a really good Harry Potter line."

Ty pretended not to hear.

"I know you're a Gryffindor," Zane started, not waiting for his husband's consent to proceed, "but would you mind if I Slytherin and Huffle all over your Puff?"

"That's gotta be one of the crummiest pick-up lines on the planet," Ty said. " _And_ it's a pun, which means you're in the Sin Bin for the rest of the night."

Ah, yes, the infamous Sin Bin. No doubt soon to be followed by the equally infamous Sex Embargo…

"Not sure that's a good idea," Zane said.

"What?"

"Putting me in the Sin Bin."

"Why not?"

"Cus if I'm in the Sin Bin when you switch off the light, I won't be able to slip on my cloak to visit your Restricted Section."

Ty gave him a soul-blasting stare.

"And how will I stick my Half-Blood Prince in your Chamber of Secrets then?"

"Please stop."

"If you don't approve of Harry Potter, I know some Star Wars pick-up lines as well."

"One more word, and I will fucking _end_ you."

Zane cupped his hands in front of his mouth. "I find my lack of blow jobs disturbing."

A bing from the phone saved him from a grisly fate.

Ty huffed as he scanned the text. "This one's from Orlov," he sourly said.

"Hit me."

"He's suggesting, "Nice shoes, would you like to fuck?'"

"That's… actually _exactly_ what I could see him saying."

"Makes Nick and Kelly's suggestions look intelligent and sophisticated."

"Wonder how well the line actually works?"

"From what he's told us about his sex life back in Moscow, obviously better than we'd all think."

"Guess people in Moscow are even more desperate than people in Jacksonville or Miami."

Bing.

"Okay, here's Cooper." This time, Ty grinned. "He's suggesting 'I'm no weatherman, but I think you're in for at least ten inches tonight.'"

"I kinda like that."

"Pretty good, right?"

"But not a line just anyone can use."

"What'd you mean?"

"I mean, you come out with a line like that, you better be sure you can deliver the goods," Zane warned. "You can't promise someone ten inches then only provide them with four."

"That's why you like it, isn't it?" Ty accused. "You know you'll always be able to over-deliver. Promise an ounce, then turn up with a pint."

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh huh."

Zane's lips twitched. "Think that's the line Cooper used when he met his wife?"

"If he did, and she married him, either he _really_ over-delivered, or she's not as smart as we thought."

Bing.

"Digger again. He's going with 'Did you sit in a pile of sugar? Cus you have a really sweet ass.'"

"Nice," Zane approvingly said. "That's two for two. Think we've finally found Digger's calling."

"Kinda ironic, since he's the one least likely to use 'em."

"The universe truly works in mysterious ways."

Bing.

"Nick's back with another," Ty said. "He says 'Are you baptismal regeneration, cus you make me feel like a new man.'" He wrinkled his nose. "Not sure I really get that."

"Me neither. Don't worry about it. Probably a Catholic thing."

Bing.

"Orlov wants to know what the fuck that last one meant."

Bing.

"Cooper's telling Orlov not to worry cus with or without the regeneration, he's still going to hell when he dies."

Bing.

"Orlov's telling Cooper to shove his regeneration up his dick."

Now, it was Zane who scrunched his face. "Doesn't he mean shove it up his ass? I haven't tried, cus it's not my kink, but I'm pretty sure it's kinda hard to shove something up your dick."

"No fucking idea. Maybe in Russia, dick-based proverbs are more of a thing."

Bing.

"Looks like Kelly's running with the religion theme," Ty said. "He just suggested, 'What time do you have to be back in heaven?'"

"For the Sidewinder guys, that's almost romantic."

"Someone used that line on me, I'd probably fuck 'em."

"Hypothetically speaking, of course."

"Of course."

Bing.

"Cooper just added, 'Give me ten minutes, and I'll show you how I put the stud in bible study.'"

Bing.

"Nick says he's actually used that, it worked pretty well."

Bing.

"Orlov's pissed."

"Oh?"

"Says all the religious lines are shit, and anyone who uses them deserves to die unfucked and unloved."

"Don't hold back on our account, Ivan," Zane drily observed. "Let it all out. Say what you _really_ mean."

Bing.

"Owen's kinda pissed as well. Says we're all really shitty friends."

"Tell him he's right, but at least we're trying."

Ty snorted. "You're _very_ trying."

"Funny."

"I think I have one Ozone'll like," Ty said, thumbs moving again. "Are you a library book, because I can't stop checking you out."

"You just told me puns were a Sin Bin offense."

"That's only for you. The Sin Bin doesn't apply to me."

"Since fucking when?"

"Since I fucking invented it, _that's_ when."

"Anyone ever told you, you have a really dictatorial leadership style?"

"A couple of admins back at the FBI, yeah."

"What'd you do?"

"I had them taken out to a quarry and killed."

"I hope you're kidding."

"So does the guy who owns the quarry."

"Anything more from the guys?" Zane asked, gesturing at the phone.

Ty shook his head.

"If we're switching to a bookish theme, I have a fairly good one for you."

Ty's face settled into a wary glare. "Oh, yeah?"

"How about, 'I'm writing a story, can you help me figure out my climax?'"

"That's, uhm, _okay_?"

"Fine, then how about, 'I'm like a really good thriller, cus once you start me, you won't be able to stop'?"

"That's better," Ty acknowledged. "Not great, but not offensively shitty, either."

"I can go to my grave a happy man. The Fearless Leader has been appeased."

"Where's that from?"

Zane put on his most innocent face. "Where's what from?"

"The nickname. The Fearless Leader."

"Not from anywhere," Zane lied. "Just something I made up out of the blue."

Ty's glare returned. "Lone Star, you better not be secretly comparing me to Hitler or Mussolini."

"Would I do that?"

The glaring continued.

"Seriously, doll," Zane soothed. "Relax. Thought never crossed my mind."

Bing.

"Cooper's asking if Owen wants some CIA-themed lines," Ty said.

"Didn't think CIA people would even _use_ pick-up lines."

"Why not?"

"Don't they skip the flirting phase, and go straight to the waterboarding and torture sessions?"

"Only if you ask them nicely."

" _And_ if you bring your own cuffs."

Ty shook his head. "Cable ties, babe. Cuffs are expensive. And _way_ too classy."

Bing.

"Owen says yes," Ty advised.

"Wanna put money on how quickly and badly he's gonna regret that?"

Bing.

"Cooper's suggesting, "Can you help me? The FBI's trying to steal my dick. I need to find a safe place to hide it.'"

Bing.

"Digger likes it."

Bing.

"Orlov now. 'Is your car battery dead, because I think I'd really like to jump you.'"

"Where's the CIA angle in _that_?"

"He's a slower thinker, babe. He's probably ten texts behind."

Bing.

"Cooper again. 'Your cell phone isn't the only thing I'm trying to tap.'"

Zane groaned. "Cus nothing says 'I love and respect you' like a FISA court order, right?"

Bing.

"Orlov now. 'Is your vagina called ISIS, because I think my missile is about to destroy it.'"

Bing.

"He says we can change vagina to asshole if the target's a guy."

"That's extremely generous of him."

Bing.

Ty huffed. "Another suggestion from Orlov. 'Is your name Ukraine, because I'd like to violate your borders.'"

"You know, it's moments like this that make me feel sorry for Orlov's wife."

"Was she conscious and lucid when she married him?"

"I think so, yeah."

Ty shrugged. "Then don't."

Bing.

"Owen says on second thoughts, don't bother with the CIA-themed stuff, he's good."

Bing.

"Digger wants to know if Owen's actually been to P.F. Chang's."

Bing.

"Cooper recommends the Lettuce Wraps and the Orange Peel Chicken."

Bing.

"Kelly says, 'If you were a chicken, you'd be impeccable'." Ty frowned, then muttered, "I guess he's still on the pick-up lines?"

Bing.

"Orlov wants to know if Kelly's flirting with his brother."

Zane snickered. "He seems to worry about that a lot."

"Maybe he's jealous."

"Yeah, but of what? Other men flirting with his brother, or his brother being flirted with by other men?"

"What's the least disturbing answer?"

"It's Cooper and Orlov. There isn't one."

"Then let's not think about it."

Bing.

"Nick's telling Orlov not to worry, cus Doc has much better taste than that."

Bing.

"Cooper says he's not so sure."

Bing.

"Cus as far as he can see, the only thing that's ever wanted to fuck Nick is life."

Zane covered his face with his hands. So much for his long-running theory that Cooper was the rational one. "This is about to turn ugly, isn't it?"

Ty nodded. "The pick-up lines are leaving the stage. Insult shit's about to get real." He started typing.

"Please don't," Zane pleaded, reaching out to pull Ty's hand away from the phone. "If it's about to turn into a bitching contest, you'll just be adding fuel to the flames."

"Sorry, babe. No can do. Semper Fi."

"Uh, Ty?"

"What?"

"You _do_ remember Cooper was in the Marine Corps as well?"

"Okay, then Semper _Recon_ Fi."

"I don't think that's how Latin works."

Ty flipped him the bird. "How about that? Does that work instead?" The typing resumed—he sneered as he pressed the 'Send' button.

"What did you say?"

"I reminded Cooper that his fellow jarheads all have his back."

That seemed suspiciously nice…

"So if he dies on the job, we'll all take turns vigorously consoling his wife."

Zane winced. "Jesus, Meow Mix, isn't that a little bit harsh?"

Bing.

"Cooper says thanks, but he's pretty sure his wife would rather be in the coffin with him."

Bing.

"Owen again. He's telling us all to shut the fuck up before someone says something they really regret."

"What's that line again about horses and barns?"

"Don't ask me, man. You're the one who grew up on a ranch."

Bing.

Ty read the new message, then furrowed his brows. "What the hell?" he murmured.

"Problem?"

"This one's from Orlov."

"And?"

"I think he just insulted us, but I'm honestly not sure."

"Is the message in Russian?"

"No, it's in English. Or, as close to English as Orlov gets."

"What's it say?"

"It says 'Your mother fucks her brothers for bricks so she can build your sister a whorehouse'."

Zane blinked. "Okay, _wow_."

"You think that's another one of his shitty, philosophical proverbs, and it makes more sense when you say it in the original language?"

"No idea."

" _So_ wrong."

"It's pretty rude, yeah."

"Double rude, cus I don't even _have_ a sister."

Bing.

"Digger wants to know what the fuck that last insult meant."

"Tell him to take a ticket and get in line."

Bing.

"Nick's asking Orlov if he's been drinking paint-thinner again."

Bing.

Ty snickered. "Orlov's calling Nick the human equivalent of a five-dollar haircut."

Bing.

"Nick's telling Orlov he'd like to kick him in the teeth, but he's worried it might improve his looks."

Bing.

"Kelly says he's jealous of all the people who haven't met Orlov."

Bing.

"Digger agrees."

Bing.

"So does Cooper."

"Given what happened the last time Cooper made fun of his brother, I can't decide if that's brave or stupid."

"How about both?"

Zane nodded. "Both is good."

Bing.

"Orlov says he's not offended by what we're all saying," Ty paused, waiting for the Russian to send the conclusion, "he's just glad we can all string our words into proper sentences now."

"Says the guy who barely knows what an indefinite article is."

"Hmm."

Zane knew what the tone of that 'hmm' meant. "Jesus, Meow Mix, please tell me you do?"

"Why don't you tell me _what_ an indefinite article is, then I'll tell you if I actually _understand_ what it is, once you've stripped out all of the frou-frou, Wikipedia expert shit? How 'bout that?"

"It's an adjectival determiner that introduces a noun phrase, and implies the noun being referred to is non-specific instead of specific."

Ty simply stared.

Time for a quick grammar lesson. "For example, if I say 'he gave me _a_ book', the word 'a' is an indefinite article, cus it indicates the book in question is non-specific."

"But if you said 'he gave me _the_ book', it would be specific."

"Exactly."

"I actually understood that."

"Then there's hope for the fate of humanity yet."

"Seems like a simple concept to me," Ty said, ignoring the jibe. "Not sure why it has such a stupid name."

"It's grammar, doll. Everything about the subject has a stupid name."

Ty's fingers went to work again. "Gonna use your comeback on Orlov." He flashed a slightly sheepish smile. "Now I understand what it means."

Bing.

"Orlov?" Zane asked.

"Who else?"

"What's he saying?"

"Says it's not his fault we're all so fucking stupid we can't figure out if a noun's specific from the context of the conversation."

Bing.

"Says if he drives up in a car, and tells us to 'get in car', it should be fucking obvious what car he means."

Bing.

"If we need him to say 'get in _the_ car', we should all go throw ourselves under the nearest train, cus we're obviously all too fucking stupid to live." Ty lowered the phone to give Zane a thunderous glare. "Please tell me Crazy Ivan's not right?"

"It literally pains me to admit it, but he _does_ have a point. Lots of languages manage just fine without articles. So, this time, it's actually English that's inefficient."

Bing.

"Digger says if we're switching from insults to grammar lessons, he's going to bed."

Bing.

"Orlov wants to stick to insults."

"Gee, I wonder why?"

Bing.

"So does Cooper."

"I would say they're as bad as each other, but I guess that's to be expected."

Bing.

"Kelly says he can go all night."

"I'm sure he can," Zane said. He paused for effect. "But how many insults can he come up with?"

Bing.

"Nick says, 'Ten bucks says I know exactly what joke Garrett just made.'" Ty tsked and shook his head. "You're getting predictable in your old age, babe. You might need to check your moves and up your game."

"How about you go back to Nick and ask him how his mom's date with Derek Jeter went?"

" _Much_ better," Ty said, nodding approval and typing again.

Bing.

"Orlov wants to know why everyone hates Derek Jeter."

Oh, boy…

Bing.

"Digger says it's been nice knowing us all, and good night."

So, Digger at least had an idea of how much death and destruction was coming…

Bing.

"Owen says we're all raging assholes, and he's never talking to any of us again."

Bing.

"Cooper's apologizing for what Orlov just said."

Bing.

"But also thinks the only good thing to come out of Boston is the road to New York."

Bing.

"And that Tom Brady's a lying, cheating, ball-fondling pig."

Zane resisted the urge to cry and pull the covers up over his head. If they opened the window and listened closely, they could probably hear O'Flaherty losing his shit from here.

Bing.

Ty guffawed. "Go get 'em, son. Show those two-faced CIA fuckers some good, old-fashioned Boston love."

"Funny?"

"Nick's telling Cooper he wants to set his face on fire then put the flames out with an axe."

Bing.

"And telling Orlov to shut the fuck up, cus if he wanted to hear from an asshole, he'd fart."

Bing.

"Kelly wants to know if being an asshole was invented in Russia."

Bing.

"Orlov says no, it was something he only learned when he moved to the States."

Zane snorted. "Uh huh."

Bing.

"Nicks saying if Orlov's going to be so two-faced, could he at least make one of them pretty?"

Bing.

Ty sucked in his breath. "What the fucking fuck does _that_ mean?"

"Something wrong?"

"It's Orlov, responding to Nick."

"What's he saying?"

"You gotta hear this."

"I can't hear it unless you fucking tell me," Zane thundered, making a 'get on with it' motion.

"He just told Nick he's gonna plant a mango tree in his mother's snatch then fuck his sisters in its shade."

Zane was momentarily lost for words. "Might not be paint thinner, but Orlov's _definitely_ been drinking something."

"He keeps coming out with insults like that, the only thing he's gonna be drinking is a couple of gallons of his own blood."

"You have to admire his creativity, though," Zane added. "Can't remember the last time I heard a good takedown with a mango theme."

"Just wish he'd take it easy with the sister fucking."

"What's the matter, doll? Hitting a little too close to home?"

Ty play-slapped him on the head. "Garrett, if you're gonna insult me, at least get it right. In West Virginia, we don't fuck our sisters. We kiss our cousins."

"But the good-looking _guy_ cousins, right?"

"When we're done with this and it's time to turn out the lights, don't even _think_ about asking for a hand job."

And lo, just as Zane had predicted, the well-beloved and trusty Sex Ban arrived…

Bing.

"Kelly thinks Orlov needs professional help."

Bing.

"Nick disagrees."

Bing.

"He thinks Orlov needs to be punched in the dick until he dies."

Bing.

"And says his sisters would rather cheer for the Habs than let a drooling fucktard like Orlov touch them."

Zane let out a low whistle. "The Habs, huh? Talk about dialling it all the way up to eleven?"

Bing.

"Kelly wants to know if we can ditch the insults and go back to the pick-up lines."

"Is Owen still on?"

"Don't think so. Looks like he bailed around the same time as Digger."

Bing.

"Orlov's calling it a night. Says it's been fun, but wants to quit while he's ahead, so he's gonna go have vigorous sex with his wife."

"Man's a pair of gonads on legs," Zane muttered.

Bing.

"Cooper's telling Orlov to go slip one past the goalie."

"As long as he doesn't need an assist."

Ty's lips curled. "Lone Star, did you just make a _hockey_ joke?"

"Just because I don't like it or watch it doesn't mean I don't know how it works."

Bing.

"Nick's signing off."

Bing.

"Cooper, too. Says he has a report to write for a meeting tomorrow."

"Just hope it's not a report about the contents of the text conversation."

Bing.

"Kelly's signing off as well. Says he has some beer to drink, and the second half of a Cubs game to watch."

"What about us? Are we done with this crap?"

"I think so, yeah." Ty typed out his own farewell message, then switched off the phone and set it aside. He checked the clock. "Not even eleven. You wanna read a little bit more, or is it time to switch out the lights?"

Zane yawned. "Lights out, I think. Then straight to sleep."

"No bedtime cuddles?" Ty asked, giving him puppy-dog eyes.

"Not allowed."

The puppy vanished. "Why the fuck not?"

"Cus you put me in the Sin Bin, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Right."

"You _could_ put me back out on the ice."

"I could," Ty agreed, "but you'd have to promise to behave."

Zane held up his hand in the Boy Scout salute. "I promise, no more terrible puns."

"And no more Star Wars pick-up lines, either. I've already been in your garbage chute, I know I'm too sexy to be a Stormtrooper, and I don't care if you can roar like Chewbacca."

"Can I at least tell you another one from Harry Potter?"

"Lone, Star, I swear to God…"

"It's a good one. _Very_ sweet. You'll love it, I promise."

"That's what you said about peas on pizza."

For the sake of their marriage, Zane was willing to let that one slide. "This isn't peas. This is better."

Ty spread his arms and hung his head in surrender. "Go on, then. Do your worst. I was Recon for almost ten years. I can take it." He shimmied all the way under the covers, folded his arms across his chest and gave Zane an expectant stare.

Zane leaned over to kiss Ty tenderly on the lips. "Meow Mix, no matter what happens, or where we end up, you'll always be the _only_ thing I ask for in my Room of Requirement." He tensed, bracing himself for Ty's disapproval.

The disapproval never came. "That's… actually very romantic," Ty said in the softest of voices. "Nerdy as fuck, but given the circumstances, I think I'm willing to let that go." He slipped one hand around Zane's neck, the other hand around his waist, and pulled him close to kiss him again.

Grinning, Zane slid his hand under the covers. "Then how about we turn out the light, get you out of these goddamn shorts and see if we can't manage some mischief together?"


End file.
